No Place Like Home
by paperfirefly
Summary: A trip to Gimli's home could cost more than it's worth for Legolas. After receiving a less than friendly welcome, Legolas is shown to his room - only to find that it would have been safer to stay home after all.
1. Part One: A Typical Dwarven Welcome

No Place Like Home

Disclaimer - I don't own anything that you don't recognize ;)

A/N - This story is a sequel to _Home Sweet Home_. I wouldn't think you need to read that to understand this, but it might make things easier ;)

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_Murphy's Law: If you realize that there are three possible ways in which something can go wrong, and cover them all, then a fourth, unprepared for way, will miraculously appear out of thin air.

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Part One

The two of them rode in stony silence.

They were not fortunate enough to have complete quiet, which would add tension and suspense to the situation, but they did the best they could. Despite the sounds of Esgaroth waking up behind them, nature awakening around them and their own horse cheerfully trotting below them, neither of them so much as breathed loudly.

The Elf and Dwarf sat together on _Arod_, but each was loathe to do so. The Dwarf, who was behind his companion, busied himself with glaring at the Elf's back, only grudgingly holding onto him to keep from falling off. Again. Certainly, the Elf was not trying to keep the journey very smooth or comfortable. It would seen he was trying to do quite the opposite.

The Elf distracted himself from the unwelcome feel of the Dwarf behind him by replaying the scene that had transpired not half hour ago in his head. It was highly amusing, and caused him to burst out in random, brief laughter that annoyed his fellow traveler no end.

This was how they continued for some time. They broke for lunch. The Elf wordlessly and gracefully dismounted, and left the Dwarf to messily stumble to the ground. They ate their provisions in silence, and as far away from each other as they could politely go. The Elf climbed up a tree while the less agile one chose a spot by the river, maybe twenty feet away. They returned to their horse by unspoken agreement and continued on their way until, midway through the afternoon, they reached foot of the mountain, where they were met with a pair of brown haired Dwarves.

"Halt!" One of them cried. "Who are you, and what are you doing in our lands?"

Legolas looked down at them, unsure of what to say - he was saved, however, by an excited voice from behind.

"Azaghâl! Tharkûl!" These two words appeared to be the names of the sentries. A string of words also followed Gimli's exclamation, but Legolas truly couldn't understand a word of it - it was spoken in Dwarvish. Legolas suspected that this was being done on purpose, just to annoy him.

Gimli almost threw himself from Arod, before hurrying over to where his stunned friends were. They proceeded to hold a long, slow conversation - completely ignoring the Elf and horse nearby - which made Legolas silently thank the Valar that at least he had not made friends with an Ent.

It was a while before the Dwarves bothered to acknowledge him. Returning to Westron, the one Legolas thought was Azaghâl stepped forward.

"You," He snarled. "Must be the Elf. _Legolas_."

Legolas nodded, plastering a smile on his face and trying to look friendly. "I am, Master Dwarf. You would be...?"

"You need not concern yourself with that." The other Dwarf snapped. "Off your horse. Now."

Legolas looked questioningly at Gimli as he obediently slid off his horse.

"It can't come any further." The first Dwarf told him. "Get rid of it."

Legolas gaped at him, and turned to stare at Gimli.

"Master Dwarf," Legolas said finally, having received no response from his friend. "My horse will do no harm. I do not see why-"

"Get rid of it." The Dwarf repeated dangerously, warningly raising the pointed stick he held.

Legolas, seeing no way out of it without offending his soon-to-be hosts before even walking through their front door, whispered a few words in the horses ear, then watched as he trotted casually away. Legolas found himself sadly wishing that he, too, could turn away like that. Now that he had arrived at Erebor, he found that the last thing he wanted to do was stay. The promise he had made to his friend, though, made him tear his gaze away from his departing companion and look back down at the Dwarves who stood glaring at him.

"Come with us," The second sentry instructed, and without further ado, turned sharply and began walking up the incline that led to the door. Legolas walked next to them, but he might as well have been ten feet behind, for all the inclusion he got. He walked next to Gimli, who spend the entire walk cheerfully conversing with his friends - in Dwarvish.

Legolas decided he was fully prepared to put aside the disagreement between himself and Gimli, because to be alone and friendless in the Dwarven mountain was not a position he wanted to find himself in.

It had been eleven days since Maegóre had visited the mountain. Of that visit, his brother hadn't said much - but he had told Legolas that the architecture and designs of the inside was surprisingly good.

Good, Legolas found, did not even come close.

The walls had been carved to depict scenes from history - Dwarven history, of course. Legolas recognized none of them, except a larger picture of the Dwarves defeating Smaug the Dragon. Yet, Legolas still found the scenes interesting to look at. The scenes were far from dull; in fact, they were brightened by gems encrusted into particular places. There was just although to look proper, and no more than was needed. Legolas was sincerely impressed. Each carving had clearly been made with extreme love and care, smoothly, carefully, and not a single glitch in sight. There were similar things on his own walls at home, but none like this. They simply did not compare. Greenwood's patterns were of nature and Elven history too, but although carefully done, the Elves that had worked on those were simply no match for the natural skill of the Dwarves. Here,each wall was carefully illuminated so that the scenes were shown in just the right way, and the room was well-lit, not darkish as Legolas had half expected. The chamber was breathtaking.

"Good, isn't it." Gimli stated proudly. It was time Gimli had acknowledged the Elf in hours and Legolas would have been lying if he were to say that he was not relieved. The look on Gimli's face told Legolas that they were not on entirely friendly terms yet, though.

"It is beautiful," Legolas said truthfully.

Gimli nodded, rolling his eyes, and turning back to speak to some of the Dwarves who had approached him at their entry to the mountain.

Legolas took the opportunity to study the walls once more. Valar, he had never known Dwarves to be like this!

It was only a few minutes before Gimli returned, and when he did, he seemed quite friendly towards Legolas. He seemed to have forgiven the Elf, at any rate, and if Gimli could do that then Legolas was certainly willing to forgive him...at least until their visit to the mountain ended and they were on their own once more.

"My family does not know I am here yet," Gimli told him. "I have asked it to be so. I am going to see them now, and have enlisted the help of my friends, Azaghâl - who you have already met - and Zaharûn, to show you to the room you will be staying in. You should have no problem getting along with them," Gimli assured him.

Legolas was not convinced. Zaharûn looked friendly enough, but Azaghâl still looked like he would be quite happy to murder him and his horse.

"I'm sure we will get along just fine," Legolas lied.

"Yes, and I will come and get you when it it time for dinner, in a few hours or so. I believe some of my cousins are visiting from the Glittering Caves right now and they are in the rooms right next to yours. They'll be happy to help you if you need anything."

"That's nice to know." Legolas replied. He wondered if there was a window in his room. If there wasn't, there was every chance he would suffocate from being locked in a mountain with no notable escape and no knowledge of his way around.

No sooner had Gimli left to find his family then Legolas turned around to find Zaharûn standing waiting for him, Azaghâl having already gone on ahead. Legolas rolled his eyes, and walked with Zaharûn, who was as polite as could be expected, pleasantly asking Legolas about himself and his home.

Legolas learned just how large a place Erebor was on his way to his room. The trip took about fifteen minutes, Legolas was certain. Still, it was not _entirely_ unpleasant. On the way, he was treated to even more of the Dwarves fine carvings, and after a few minutes Zaharûn, sensing that his guest would rather inspect the walls then engage in conversation, fell silent, leaving Legolas to his thoughts.

Legolas did not even notice how far down they seemed to be going - unusually so. Or how dark it was getting, as the number of wall-mounted candles fell with every turn and new corridor.

Eventually Azaghâl, who the other two had caught up with, stopped suddenly. They had reached the end of their corridor, and were met with one long passageway. The two corridors were running so that they met in a T-shape.

"Your room is down here," Azaghâl announced, nodding down the right half of the new passage.

The corridor was barely lit at all, and the few dimly lit candelabras upon the wall seemed to have been put there as an afterthought. There were no corridors leading off it except the one they had come from, although doors frequently appeared on the walls - which, to Legolas's dismay, were not even decorated. Looking back, though, the walls had seemed to be getting less detailed as the small group went on their way.

"Oh," Legolas said. "Well. It looks very...homely."

"Indeed, that is good," Azaghâl agreed. "I expect you will be spending the majority of your visit here."

_Not if I can help it_, Legolas thought to himself.

He followed the two Dwarves quite a way down the passageway until, quite suddenly, they stopped outside one very inconspicuous door.

"Here we are," Azaghâl said grandly, pulling a bronze key from his pocket and unlocking the door. The two Dwarves then stepped aside for Legolas to walk through, which he did with clear anticipation.

He was not too impressed with what he found.

The words sparsely furnished were an understatement here. Bare stone floor, bare stone walls. One bed, made of rock and of the most basic of designs, had been shoved into a corner, with three itchy-looking blankets laid upon it. No pillow. On the wall, one pathetic candle flickered.

And that was the extent of it all. Not even a bedside table. Not even an_ en suite bathroom_.

Legolas struggled to say something nice about the room, and turned around to do so. He was quite surprised to find himself alone in the room, with the door shut as well.

_Surely they are not so rude to have left me here already_, Legolas thought to himself. As he reached out to pull open the door, however, he heard it. The soft - yet unmistakable - sound of a key being turned in the lock.

It took a few moments for the realization to hit him. In those moments, he reached out, tried to turn the handle of the door, tried but to no avail, before sliding down to the floor.

He had just been locked in this room.

This room, which actually resembled more of a dungeon, when he gave it further thought.

Only prisoners belonged in dungeons.

Which could only mean that he had been taken prisoner by Dwarves.

Legolas allowed a low groan to escape him.

His mood was only made worse with the realization that the room didn't even have a window.

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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is cherished, and if you want to give me any concrit, that would be great because I'd really like to improve my writing. I'd love to know what you thought was good, and what wasn't :D Have a great day/night!


	2. Part Two: Let's Celebrate

Home Sweet Home

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! It's thanks to you guys that I finally managed to find time to write this :P (For people I couldn't reply to, I've left my reply at the end.)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you don't recognise.

Part Two

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_Homecoming means coming home to what is in your heart. ~Author Unknown_

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Gimli stood in the centre of the apartment living room. He was the only one there, and he was enjoying the first moment he had had to himself since he had arrived home barely three hours ago. During that time, he had been bombarded by both his friends and people that he didn't particularly like, as well as relations, both distant and close. They had fired question after exclamation after question at him and - especially after the rather arduous journey - he was quite exhausted. Finally, peace had come after his parents had fought the cheerful citizens off and hustled him away to their apartment.

He had had just enough time to re-acquaint himself with his own rooms, bathe, change and do all the other mindless chores that had to be done after such an absence, and he was now waiting for the rest of his family to appear.

"Gimli-"

The Dwarf glanced up and smiled as his mother made her way across the room towards him. When she opened her arms, he practically dived into them, for once not caring that he was a grown Dwarf and did not stoop to such childish actions. They spent several long moments together before drawing apart.

Inga, his mother, stood back and held her son at arms length. She had not been able to look him over properly since he had come home at all, and she felt relief wash over her as she noted that Gimli was fine.

"I am so proud of you, my son," she said finally.

"Thank-you," Gimli replied simply, although there was a lump in his throat and the tips of his ears had gone red.

Inga clapped her hands together and smiled widely. "It is almost time for the celebration feast," she announced. "Why don't you find this Elf they tell me you have brought home?"

Gimli grinned sheepishly. "You will like him, Mam," he assured her. "He's alright, for an Elf."

"We shall see," Inga murmured, but she continued to smile at him jokily. "These Wood-Elves are odd folk. One came by to talk to your father just the other day, and he was extremely strange." She tapped the side of her head mischievously. "Their brains are mixed up, if you ask me."

"You must be talking about Legolas's brother, Maegóre. I quite agree - but he is nothing like Legolas, save in looks."

"Just as mad as his father, if you ask me." Glóin announced. Both his wife and son jumped slightly, not having noticed his entrance. He smiled gently at Gimli. "Welcome home, son."

"It's good to be back," Gimli replied truthfully. His mother nudged him gently.

"There is no place like home, eh?" She said playfully, before adding, "I will go and get your cousins. We will meet you outside the Hall. Go and get that Elf of yours, Gimli, and don't be late."

Gimli rolled his eyes, calling out, "He is not _my_ Elf!". Glóin clapped him on the shoulder.

"I wouldn't want anything to happen to you so soon after your homecoming, Gimli, so go and do as your mother says." Glóin instructed. Gimli had to agree. He did not know if anyone had ever crossed his mother before, for if they had, they hadn't lived to tell the tale.

Glóin hurried off to catch up with his wife, while Gimli left the apartment at a more leisurely pace. He was thrilled to finally be home and wanted to take some time to breath in the air. As he walked, he trailed he hand along the wall, smiling with pleasure at the careful crafting and carving of his people below his hand. Every grove, ridge or chip brought back a flood of memories. He could almost taste the sweet, familiar surroundings. He could easily lose himself-

"Gimli, I'm glad that I've found you."

Blinking his eyes a few times, to bring himself back to the present, Gimli focused on the Dwarf standing in front of him.

"Azaghâl, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be preparing for the feast?" Gimli questioned. He looked longingly over his friend's shoulder. They were not far away from the Hall, and the low rumble of people having fun was drifting from the open doors. To be honest, he wanted to collect Legolas as soon as possible and get himself down to the celebration - he hadn't had a proper meal in weeks. The food he had been given at Legolas's home was nothing like what he considered 'good food', and he was looking forward to showing his friend a true Dwarven gathering.

Azaghâl looked at Gimli remorsefully. "I have a message from the Elf."

Gimli blinked. "I'm going up to get him now. He can tell me himself."

Azaghâl shook his head and reached out to stop Gimli from moving on. "No, you don't understand," he said. "The Elf wants me to tell you that he is unable to come to the celebration tonight. He apologizes. He sends his regards. He insisted that under no circumstances are you to come and get him tonight."

Glaring at his friend, Gimli stood up straighter. "Damn that," he snapped. "What's wrong with him? I came to his celebratory feast, he can come to mine."

"Typical Elf," Azaghâl observed.

"Excuse me," Gimli continued, "I'm going to-"

"I don't know, Gimli," Azaghâl interrupted, stopping his friend in his tracks. "He was pretty insistant. He sounded quite ill-"

"Ridiculous. Elves don't get ill."

"Well, homesick, maybe. Or perhaps he can't handle being in a _real_ stronghold, not that pathetic imitation at his home," Azaghâl suggested. Sensing that Gimli was about to charge past, he hurriedly added, "really, Gimli, does it matter? Nobody really wants him there-"

"_I_ want him there," Gimli growled.

"-and we are both late as it is! You are the guest of honour, my friend, and you simply cannot afford to waste anymore time! There will be other feasts for the Elf to attend, but you will only get this glory once, Gimli."

Gimli scowled. He didn't like this situation one bit, but Azaghâl had put up a good argument. Legolas would have to wait. "Come on, then."

Together, they made their way to the Hall. Azaghâl walked a half step behind the other Dwarf, ensuring that Gimli didn't catch sight of the satisfied smirk that had forced its way onto Azaghâl's lips.

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Legolas leaned back against the wall. His knees were apart, his body relaxed, and he was close to falling asleep through sheer boredom alone. He would never be tired enough to actually try to sleep on that 'bed', of course, but he had been in this position for quite a while.

After forsaking any dignity he had left at all, Legolas had tried hollering for someone to come for a while before he finally had to admit that no-one was there, and if they were, then they obviously weren't about to let him out.

He had then spent a short amount of time exploring the room itself. It was very small, and had taken no time at all. If there were any secret passageways out of there, then Legolas was not a good enough expert in these matters to know.

Eventually, he had sat down and entertained himself with his own wit and imagination, but this, too, had not lasted very long. With nothing but the same boring, bland shade of grey surrounding him, (even the cotton blankets on the bed were grey, although Legolas could not tell whether this was their original colour, or a result of aging and overuse.) his eyes had soon glazed over. He had quickly lost track of time and for all he knew, an hour had passed or a day.

Legolas was quickly brought out of his sleepy state by the welcome _snap_ of a key turning in the lock. In a second he had scrambled to his feet and reached for the handle, but the door swung open before he could touch it.

His way was barred by two Dwarves - Zaharûn and a burly Dwarf who may have been loitering around the entrance hall when Legolas and Gimli arrived. Legolas wasn't sure. Zaharûn, who smiled mournfully at him, held a wooded tray with a cloth covering over it.

"Here," the burly Dwarf grunted, nudging Zaharûn, who shoved the tray into the Elf's hands.

"Er-"

"We are going to need those weapons," the Dwarf continued relentlessly. He barged into the room, followed by his companion, and forcefully shut the door. Standing menacingly in front of it with his arms crossed defensively over his chest, Legolas found himself quite speechless.

"Didn't you hear me?" the Dwarf growled. "Give me your weapons!"

"What harm could I possibly do in here?" he demanded. "What is going on? Where is Gimli?"

"Weapons," the burly Dwarf snapped.

Zaharûn stepped forward and before the Elf could fully react - he was juggling that tray, after all - he had taken the knives from Legolas. He then stepped backwards and collected the bow, quiver and arrows that Legolas had placed on the bed a while ago.

"We'll be looking after these," Zaharûn muttered. The burly Dwarf stepped forward and checked that the Elf was hiding no more weapons. He swiftly removed the small dagger he found tucked away around his ankle and tossed it to Zaharûn, who deftly caught it.

"We'll need your cloak, and that bag," he continued, pointing to the drawstring bag that Legolas had dropped into the corner shortly after his arrival. It contained clothing, toiletries and some leftover rations from the journey. Legolas couldn't for the life of him work out why the Dwarves could possibly want that. The weapons, he could understand, really. But his cloak?

Instinctively, Legolas's hand moved up to the clasp and held tight, preventing the Dwarf from touching it.

"What on Arda do you want those for?" Legolas growled. "What is going on?" Without waiting for an answer, he stepped towards the door - and promptly doubled over from a harsh blow to the stomach that the burly Dwarf had sent his way.

Gasping slightly, he glowered at the Dwarf. Admittedly, he was reluctant to hurt one of Gimli's friends, whatever they were doing to him.

"Do not move," the Dwarf instructed, and Zaharûn took advantage of Legolas's position to pull his cloak off. He didn't touch the clasp, which Legolas wasn't holding any more, but used instead such force that the gold pin broke and fell to the floor. An angry red mark gracing his neck from where the cloak had bitten into him - Zaharûn had pulled the cloak off from behind - Legolas blinked and swirled around in time to see his attacker straighten after grabbing the broken clasp from the ground.

In seconds, the two Dwarves had exited the room. As the door slammed, Legolas leapt forwards but he was locked in before he could pull the door back open. Still, he threw himself at the door and pushed against it with all his might, yelling for the two Dwarves to release him.

No reaction.

After a few minutes of desperate behavior, he sank to the floor. Having set the tray down after doubling over, he pulled it towards him now and threw the cover off.

He was surprised by what he found. There was a small bowl of thick, if lukewarm, soup, chunks of bread, slices of cheese and meat,chopped fruit and a jug of water on the side. The word _poison_ flashed briefly across his mind but it soon disappeared. Somehow, even though he had no reason to think this, he didn't believe that the warped Dwarves would want to poison him.

Shrugging, he began to eat, only now realising how hungry he was. The time it took for him to completely finish the plate was far too short for his liking, and the hours stretched ahead of him like sand in a desert.

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Gimli eyed the drunken crowd with pleasure. The feast was a good few hours in by now and everyone was enjoying themselves. Sat up on the high table with his parents and the King, Gimli was having the time of his life.

Or at least...he would have been. Something was missing.

Across the hall, Gimli met Azaghâl's eye. The other Dwarf was sitting amongst a large group of their friends - it was one of the loudest tables in the hall - laughing cheerfully. He waved at Gimli, who waved back half-heartedly.

Setting down his tankard, Gimli made his decision. Muttering that he'd be back in a moment, he fought his way through the celebrating people until he escaped the hall. As soon as the doors fell shut behind him, the noise and clamour drifted away until they were just a lonely spot at the back of his mind. He would be lying if he said that he was not relieved. He had been to feasts before - of course; but being the guest of honour, it seemed, was an exhausting title. He was sincerely glad that this was a one-off.

Gimli took advantage of the abnormal quiet - everyone was in the hall, after all - to clear his head a little.

Looking back, his spat with Legolas seemed pointless and trivial. It may have just been the drink going to his head, but he truly couldn't believe they had made such a fuss of it and ruined the Elf's first day in the Mountain. The Dwarf doubted Legolas was homesick at all - he was probably just worried that Gimli would still not be speaking to him and the idea of that silent, awkward feast with a hall full of drunk Dwarves terrified him. If, that was, Legolas had even spoken to Azaghâl in the first place.

Gimli was not an idiot. He knew exactly how his friend felt about Elves, although he had hoped the other Dwarf would have acted a bit more mature, and certainly wouldn't put it past him to pull a stunt like this. Gimli frowned. Legolas wouldn't have been sorry about missing this meal, he was sure. It was spending hours stuck alone in his room that would bother the Elf.

Well, Gimli supposed, he was going to make amends for his previous actions. He might as well apologize for this as well.

He had almost reached the room that he had requested for Legolas. It was a guest room, and it was relatively near to his own apartment, but this night he planned to spend with his family. His father's apartment was a fair distance from his own, but there was nothing to be done. It was just one night.

Gimli frowned, noticing two figures up ahead him. Wondering briefly why they were out here, he smiled as he neared them, recognizing Zaharûn and his distant cousin, Odin.

"What are you two doing down here?" He called out.

Zaharûn and Odin exchanged glances before the former replied.

"We could ask you the same question, Gimli," the Dwarf smiled. "You are the guest of honour, after all."

"I'm here to collect the Elf," Gimli informed them cheerfully.

Odin frowned. "You can't," he said, "Didn't Azaghâl tell you? He is ill- homesick-"

"That's ridiculous. And if he is - which I am sure he is not - then I will sit with him. I am not comfortable without him."

"An Elf, Gimli? Really?" Odin asked in disgust.

Before Gimli could reply, Zaharûn quickly interrupted. "I don't think he really wants to be disturbed, anyway."

Grinding his knuckles, Gimli pushed past the two of them and stalked down the corridor until he reached his friends room.

"Fine, Gimli," Odin called. "We will meet you two in the hall." Without waiting for a reply, the two of them hurried off to the feast. Gimli rapped his knuckles on the door.

No answer. The Dwarf opened the door, stepped inside and lit a nearby candelabra.

The immediate area was bathed in light, but Gimli only needed this much to make his way to the bedchamber - it took him no time at all to notice that Legolas would not be found in this room.

Or the bedchamber.

The bathroom door was ajar, and the room was empty. Thoroughly confused, Gimli returned to the main room.

Legolas was definitely housed here. His cloak was clung over one armchair, leftover rations on the table. In the bathroom, there was a disorganised pile of toiletries ready for use. In the bedroom, spare clothing hung straight in the wardrobe and all his weapons were carefully arranged on the table.

Unfortunately, Legolas was not here, and for obvious reasons, Gimli needed to find him as soon as possible.

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Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

Feedback and constructive crit will be printed out, framed, hung above my mantelpiece and religiously worshiped everyday ;P

**Luna Quetzal** - I know...nothing ever seems to go right for that Elf. Thanks for the review!:D

**yamina-cham** - Well, they do say you should skip right to the action to draw your readers in...I'm glad you liked _Home Sweet Home,_ thanks! And you know, I'm in just as much suspence about what will happen as you are so I definitely can't tell you what's going on :P


	3. Part Three: Plans Are Made

No Place Like Home

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed; your comments are much appreciated!

Disclaimer: I own nothing :(

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_But the watchful care of the parent is endless. The youth are never free from the danger of grating interference - William Godwin_

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Part Three

Gimli had heard of the 'mid-life crisis'. Once or twice, he had come across the likes of Aragorn or Faramir joking about it. Men, he knew, usually went through this unsettling period during their middle-age.

He had never heard of a Dwarf suffering from this. And yet, here he was; he could only conclude that this was what was happening to him - the alternative was too scary to contemplate. There was no other reason, that he could see, why any self-respecting Dwarf would want to put themselves in the mind of an Elf.

_If I were Legolas, _he wondered, _where would I go?_

The obvious answer was simple; the Elf would try and find his way outside. Gimli knew there was no way for the Elf to get outside, though. This night, everyone was busy celebrating in the Hall. The Entrance Doors had been closed and would not be opened again until morning. Gimli could only assume that the poor Elf was lost and wandering through what would, to Legolas, be a maze of tunnels and passageways.

Gimli sighed and returned to the passageway, completely stuck for what to do. He could hardly search the whole mountain; it would take days. Weeks. In the end, Gimli probably wouldn't find him anyway as he would be moving and Legolas would be moving and it would work out that they missed each other time and time again.

"Gimli! What are you doing here? Surely if people are going to throw a feast in your name, the least you can do is turn up for it!"

Gimli jumped guiltily to see his father wandering towards him. Gloin was a little tipsy, maybe, but not drunk. Not at all. Gimli holstered a vague smile onto his face and tried to look cheerful.

"Nothing, father. Just...looking for the Elf."

Gloin snorted to convey his opinion of this. "This is not the time to be worrying about that. People are waiting for you, my son. They want to talk to you and drink with you and celebrate."

Gimli stared at the ground. He was all too aware that his father would never understand his reasons for not being there. What's more, he hardly wanted to give his parents any more reason to dislike Legolas before they had even met properly.

"It shouldn't take long, father,"...hopefully. "He was ill earlier. I thought he might have tried to find his way outside-"

"Elves don't get ill, Gimli. Even I know that," Gloin pointed out.

"Homesick. He was homesick." Gimli still refused to look his father in the eye, and cleared his throat instead.

Gloin frowned and stepped closer to his son. "Gimli," he began in his 'warning' voice. "I know something is going on. You cannot hide it forever. I know something happened whilst you were visiting the Elf's homeland, too. Soon, I am going to want to know about it. But not now. Now, we celebrate. Come with me."

Gimli felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. Helpless, he followed his father.

"Father, I really _do_ need to find Legolas-"

"Don't be ridiculous. The Elf can find himself. This night is your night."

And so Gimli followed his father back to the Hall. There was no excuse he could make that his father would accept – and Gimli was smart enough to know that ignoring his father would not be in his best interests. He tried to find a reason to be cheerful; failing this, he decided all he could do was enjoy the night and hope for the best. And so he did.

* * *

Gimli groaned as he eyed the bright, natural light of the sun at its peak. At some point during the early hours of the morning he seemed to have crawled back to his apartment and then bed. He had slept away the morning, it seemed – in fact, if he wasn't mistaken, it was _past_ midday. With growing dismay, the Dwarf leapt out of bed with surprising agility and hurried into the adjacent bathing chamber to wash.

Twenty minutes later, Gimli emerged from his apartment, having washed, dressed and eaten as quickly as he could, and now made his way through to Legolas's guest rooms.

He hadn't got far when he was assailed by his friends, Azaghâl and Odin.

"Gimli! You are awake. Well, you'd be one of the only ones."

Gimli grinned. "Mmm." In his head, he was berating himself for his foolish behavior last night. He had, after all, walked right into that one and what kind of friend was he now?

"I couldn't get within five metres of you last night. Bloody crowds."

"Right. Right. Azaghâl – er, can I have a word?"

"'Course. What about?"

"Well. Legolas. Do you know where he is?"

Azaghâl's and Odin's faces twitched conspicuously but Gimli didn't seem to notice. Azaghâl's answer was smooth and believing, anyway.

"No, I haven't. Shouldn't you, though? You are the host."

Gimli sounded an all-encompassing grunt and, once over with the pleasantries, and agreeing to meet with his friends and cousin soon for an ale, made his way,dejectedly, to Legolas's rooms. It came of no great surprise to him when he found things exactly as he had left them.

_Insolent Elfling,_ Gimli thought furiously. Then, a wave of guilt washed over him. He was partly to blame, Gimli thought with a sinking heart. If he hadn't been so childish and stubborn, then this would not of happened and the two of them would be enjoying themselves in the Hall at this very moment.

He sighed and grunted and made his way back into the passageway.

"Gimli! What are you doing around here?" The Dwarf turned to see his father wandering towards him. Gloin clapped him heartily on the shoulder. "You're up early, considering."

"I'm sorry, father. I just came here to look for Legolas."

"Again? If the Elf is stupid enough to get himself lost then he obviously isn't worth finding," Gloin dismissed.

Gimli knew his father wanted him to forget his friend and enjoy his short trip home, but the problem was that this was impossible when he was filled with so much worry. Legolas had never left him – now it was time to return the favour.

"It won't take long, father," Gimli promised. "I'll join you soon. Why are_ you_ down here?"

Gloin laughed. "Your mother sent me to find you. If that's not enough to make you join us, then nothing is."

Gimli smiled. "I'm sure she will understand. You haven't seen Legolas, have you? Since we arrived? On your way here?"

All traces of humour were gone from the older Dwarfs face. "Would I not have told you by now? Tell me, my son, why are you so desperate to see the Elf? Surely he can survive a few hours without you?"

"Father, you don't understand. When we arrived..."

"Yes, I noticed that. You did not seem to be entirely please with the Elf. Why is that? What happened while you were at his home?" Before allowing his son to answer, Gloin held up a hand. "Do not lie to me. I know something happened, or why would the son of Thranduil visit this mountain?"

Gimli was utterly stuck. He didn't wish to lie to his father, but was uncomfortable telling all before Legolas had met his parents. Although those events had not been the Elf's fault, Gimli strongly doubted his parents would see it that way and hardly wanted his parents to be any more prejudiced towards his friend before they had even laid eyes on each other.

"There was a misunderstanding," Gimli hinted. "It's over now and it had _nothing to do with_ Legolas."

Glóin raised his eyebrows but said nothing. "I see this is hopeless. Go, find the Elf if you must. It's your decision."

"Thank you, Father," Gimli said, relief in his voice.

Glóin watched as his son hurried to find his friend. Yes, it hurt him to admit that the Elf and his son were friends but it was blindingly obvious that they were. There were so few people who Gimli would forgo the previous night for, and since the Elf was one of them...

He turned to where Azaghâl and Odin were hiding in the shadows and waited as they came forward.

"He believed me," Glóin mused. "Aye, lying to my own child now."

"He's hiding something," Odin pointed out. "He has it coming."

Glóin smiled. "You're right. I suppose what we're doing is for the best."

"Gimli will understand. He'll laugh with us in the end," Azaghâl said optimistically. "I just wish we knew what they are hiding."

"Still, the Elf doesn't _seem_ like a bad sort, as Elves go. But then, his father..." Gloin mused.

"Aah, he's an Elf, and with them, you can never tell." Azaghâl said wisely.

The three of them paused, and stood together silently. Finally, Azaghâl spoke.

"Zaharûn is uncomfortable with the situation."

"I knew it was a mistake to involve him!" Glóin exclaimed immediately. "He's too soft for his own good sometimes."

"He does what he's told - for now. We'll have to keep an eye on him though. I don't trust him to keep his mouth shut."

Glóin frowned. If you were to take the four of the who were involved in this operation - Glóin, Azaghâl, Odin and Zaharûn - their stereotypes would be easy to see. Glóin was The One in Charge, Azaghâl was The Brains Behind it All, Odin was The Mindless Henchman and Zaharûn The Young Apprentice. They had thought that with this combination they had nothing to worry about, but clearly they were wrong.

"I'll have words with him. Have you checked on the Elf this morning?" When the others shook their heads, Glóin smiled. "Good. Don't. I think it's about time I payed our guest a little visit...but first, I must find Zaharûn. Where is he?"

"Last I saw, he was coming back from his shift at the gates. That wasn't an hour ago. He's probably in his rooms now." Odin said helpfully.

Glóin nodded, and smiling, he made his way to where the younger Dwarf lived.

* * *

Zaharûn was indeed in his apartment. He had had to be up early that morning for a five-hour stint guarding the gates and, after the previous night, was hoping to catch up on a bit of sleep now. He had not been lying down long, though, when he was jolted from his slumber by a heavy knocking at the door.

"Zaharûn!"

He recognised that voice. As his sleepy brain sorted through the possible owners, dragged himself out of bed to open the door. He shuddered as he realised who it was. When Gimli's father used_ that _tone of voice...things did not look good.

"Zaharûn! Open this door!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," the sleepy Dwarf mumbled as he unbolted the lock and pulled open the door. Immediately, Glóin charged in.

The elder Dwarf settled in a chair and smiled pleasantly at his companion. "Awake? Good. Now, don't look so worried. I need you to be awake and alert for what I am about to talk to you about."

Zaharûn merely stared at his friend's father.

"You do understand the importance of what we are doing, I hope? You should. You know that if you are to say anything - or let slip anything - to my son, there will be serious consequences for us all. If, however, we allow things to play out the way I planned, there should be happy endings for everyone, hmm?"

The younger Dwarf nodded, still greatly confused as to what, exactly, Glóin was doing in his home.

"Good. I am glad to hear it." Here he paused, and looked steadily at the door, as if checking to make sure it was secure and closed. Then he leaned in to speak to Zaharûn. On impulse, Zaharûn did too. "Now, there's something I need you to do for me...it's important. You cannot tell anyone else what you are doing. Least of all the Elf."

Now even more confused than he had been before, Zaharûn nodded.

"Right. What I want you to do is...I need you to make friends with the Elf."

Zaharûn stared, but didn't dare question the elder Dwarf's instructions.

"Do you understand? You must be careful. Discreet..."

"I understand." Zaharûn replied simply.

"I will leave it up to you to decide how this must be done, however, I need it done quickly. Not too quickly to alarm the Elf though. Timing is very important."

Once he had the younger Dwarf's agreement, Glóin stood and strode towards the door. Before opening it, he turned once more towards the other Dwarf. I am going to visit the Elf now. Take some rest, but not for long, because in no more than two hours I want you to take a fair lunch down to the Elf. Then you can begin your task, but remember, timing is everything." With that, he left the apartment without so much as a backward glance towards Zaharûn, who stat, quite dumbfounded, in the chair he had just occupied.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading, and if you have the time, I would be very grateful for any feedback or con crit you could give me!

It has taken me so long to write this chapter and familiarise myself with the story again. I am very sorry it has taken me so long to update but hopefully this will be quicker now. I'm still feeling a little rusty, but hopefully the next chapter will be better. :)


	4. Part Four: Betrayals On Both Sides

No Place Like Home

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed; your comments are much appreciated!

Disclaimer: I own nothing :(

* * *

_Trust can take years to build but only a second to break - Author Unknown_

* * *

Part Four

Glóin whistled quietly as he made his way down to the chambers where their guest was being held. Not many people came down to this area; the rooms were little more than glorified closets, so no-one wanted to spend time there. That had made it the perfect place to keep the Elf.

He reached the crossroads forming the T-shape and turned, walking until he reached the room he had specified for their guest. He paused outside the door before reaching out to unlock the door; here he had to be careful. He was alone, with no back-up so this meeting could be very dangerous. Still, it was a chance he was willing to take.

In one fluid motion he inserted the key and turned the lock, quickly stepping through the narrow opening inside. Once the door was closed again, he turned to find the Elf watching him, agape.

* * *

At first, Legolas had had one ecstatic moment where he thought it was Gimli come to rescue him. That was before he'd taken in the silver hair and wrinkles. Still, there was only one person this could be...

His first thought was confusion. Had Glóin come to rescue him? Or was he one of his captors? Legolas watched the old Dwarf uncertainly. Glóin's face was unreadable, until he suddenly broke into a sad smile.

"We haven't much time..."

Legolas stared.

"Of course you're confused. Who wouldn't be? But you must let me explain - you see, my son told his friends what happened...at your home. He was angry over the _dispute_ you had on your way here and it slipped out." Glóin looked carefully at the blond Elf. "It wasn't his fault. Don't blame him."

Legolas could only process so many things at a time. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like his friend's father was here to help him. Relief struck him like a wave.

"Are you-" he nodded towards the closed door. "Are you going to let me go?" He leapt to his feet, taking one step towards to door, before the Dwarf stepped in front of him.

"Sorry, laddie," Glóin shook his head. Legolas was struck by how familiar he sounded but Glóin appeared not to notice. "I can't let you go yet. It's complicated, you see...soon they'll be coming down to see you again and-"

"No-one will know!" Legolas exclaimed. "I'll just walk out and no-one will know it was you!" He strode forward, clasping the door handle, but Glóin had locked it again. He tugged it in frustration.

"Look," the Dwarf replied. "I will come soon to let you out. But what you have to understand is that I don't want my son to get hurt-"

"I imagine," Legolas snapped through gritted teeth, "that Gimli has no idea where I am and that is probably what is hurting him!"

Glóin stepped close to the Elf and spoke very carefully. "Right now, I am your only friend. Don't you think it would be a good idea to be polite to me?"

Legolas stared at him for a moment before dropping his gaze - but he didn't apologize. He didn't entirely trust the other Dwarf yet. It wasn't as though Glóin wouldn't have motives.

"Now," Glóin began again, "we have even less time. There are just a few things to tell you. First, that Azaghâl and the others mean you no harm. They will not physically touch you-"

"Let them try," Legolas snapped fiercely.

Glóin raised his eyebrows. _Interesting_, he thought. "Next - your best chance of escape is through Zaharûn - you know which one he is? Good. I cannot let you go - not yet-"

"_Why not_? Are you sure _you_ are not a _part_ of this?"

Glóin looked frostily upon the Elf. "You insult me," he replied coldly. "I saw Zaharûn placing your belongings in the room designated for you - and asked why. It was not hard, and as I said, Zahurûn is your best chance of escape. However, the others do not know yet."

Legolas waited impatiently.

"If I let you go now, both yourself and Zaharûn would be in danger. Zaharûn would be blamed, and-"

"This is ridiculous- surely someone has noticed I am not around? Gimli-"

"It will not be for much longer," Glóin promised. He stepped backwards and, keeping his eyes on the Elf, carefully unlocked the door. Without another word, he was back in the hallway and Legolas was safely in the room.

Calmly, he returned to his apartments, thinking furiously all the way.

* * *

Legolas stared at the door. Although Glóin's visit had created more questions than answered, the change was welcome. Sitting alone in a small sqaure stone room was becoming extremely aggravating.

The most prominent question that jumped to his mind was whether he could trust Gimli's father. With all his heart and mind, he wanted to think 'yes' but too many things didn't add up. He hated the idea of someone so close to Gimli doing these things, but if Glóin was speaking the truth, why had he not just allowed Legolas out? Surely he was being a bit dramatic?

He wondered, too, what the motivation for imprisoning him was. Probably, the Dwarves were furious at the way their comrade had been treated in Legolas's home - but it wasn't right to fight fire with fire. On the other hand, if the Dwarves knew, Legolas should feel luckily that they weren't declaring war on Eryn Lasgalen at that very moment.

Were they?

Legolas decided he was just being paranoid.

He was sitting with his back against the wall, facing the door. He had been in this position for hours and his body was craving the fresh, outdoor air. He had examined the small shaft in the wall that provided ventilation but the opening was barely big enough to fit his arm through and was covered with a thick iron grill that was not going to budge. He knew - he had tried earlier, using one of his knives to try and pry it away from the wall. Nothing. Eventually he had given up. It wasn't working, and his knife was becoming slightly bent.

He sighed.

It was only a couple of minutes later that he heard the key in the lock again and he looked up as Zaharûn entered, along with another tray of refreshments. He wasn't hungry, but he was desperate for a drink.

The Dwarf said nothing as he relocked the door and set the tray down in front of the Elf. They stayed in silence for a while before the Dwarf, looking nervous, cleared his throat and shifted his feet. There was clearly something he wanted to say but couldn't get the words out.

Legolas had no intention of helping, and merely sat while the Dwarf stuttered.

"Well, err, there you go...aye, I'll be off then. I mean to say...well...goodbye."

Legolas watched as Zaharûn hurriedly unlocked the door. _Your best chance of escape is through Zaharûn_. Quickly, he made his decision.

"Wait," he called. "Wait."

To Legolas's intense surprise, the Dwarf did stop and turn...but that wasn't what excited him most. The door was unlocked, and Zaharûn was distracted. Unfortunately, with the key still in the lock, the Dwarf could easily relock it and tuck away the key. Legolas could be fast, but not fast enough. No; the way to go about this was to be very, very careful and lure Zaharûn away from the door.

Improvising quickly, Legolas spoke. "Stay here while I eat. You can take the things away with you when I'm finished and- and- it would be nice to have some company."

Amazingly, the Dwarf took the bait. However, he had the mind to relock the door and put the key away again. Inwardly, Legolas winced. Still - there was time.

Zaharûn settled himself on the floor and - to Legolas's shock - even took a piece of the bread. He seemed quite relaxed.

"You don't mind, do you?" the Dwarf asked, seeing Legolas's expression. The Elf forced a smile.

"Of course not." He ate slowly, as he thought about how he could escape.

* * *

Gimli sat in Legolas's room. He was all out of ideas. He was beginning to fear for his friends life. Maybe he could have believed that Legolas had left, fed up with his poor treatment, but all his things were here. Legolas was not so thoughtless.

He went to inspect his friends belongings. The Elf had taken the time to put his things away, although somewhat carelessly, but he apparently hadn't got much further than that. Tentatively, Gimli picked up the Elf's weapons. Legolas _definitely_ wouldn't leave without these.

He wondered if his friends could _possibly_ have something to do with this. He felt guilty for even thinking this, but it was at the forefront of his mind. Although he had shared no information with anyone, they certainly knew that something was wrong - and Azaghâl and Zahurûn, who had been there to greet him, knew they had been arguing.

He was getting a headache. However, with every passing second he grew more determined to solve this mystery and more certain that his friends weren't telling him something.

With a cry of frustration, he jumped to his feet and stormed out of the door. With a battle-like determination, Gimli marched in the direction of Azaghâl's chambers. Azaghâl, being one of Gimli's more somber and secretive friends, lived further from the Entrance Hall than everyone else. It was a relatively long walk, and few people traveled that way.

Gimli stopped just shy of the short corridor that would lead him to Azaghâl's apartments to compose himself. He didn't want his anger to get the better of him or to go storming in with false accusations.

He shut his eyes to firmly organize the jumbled thoughts in his head. That was when he heard the lowered voices.

* * *

They sat in silence. Legolas knew the key to escaping was to break it, but he just couldn't think _how_.

"You - er - you were impressed with the carvings in our Hall?"

Legolas looked up, surprised._ Your best chance of escape is through Zaharûn_. He was beginning to see why that was. None of the others had engaged him in conversation at all.

"Yes," he admitted. Despite everything, he had to admire the Dwarves for this aspect of their lives.

Zaharûn seemed to swell with pride. "They _are_ beautiful, aren't they?"

Legolas raised his eyebrows. "Did you have anything to do with them?"

The Dwarf came very close to blushing. "Well. The newer ones, yes. Nothing too impressive or eye catching, I'm afraid...but everyone has to start somewhere."

Legolas regarded his opponent for a moment. "Whereabouts are they?" he asked after some thought.

"Oh, all over the place - none in the Entrance Hall or the like. In fact, there are some not far from here - perhaps you saw them on your way?" The Dwarfs mouth twitched.

Silence descended as their conversation strayed into dangerous territory.

_I have to make him forget I'm the prisoner,_ Legolas thought.

"Well-" Legolas struggled to remember something specific. "Did you work on the one of a great feast?"

Zahurûn shook his head. "There was one of a battle," he offered.

Legolas pretended to be thinking carefully about this before speaking. "Sorry, no. Maybe..." he trailed off, laying the bait.

They sat three feet away from each other. Legolas could easily have reached across to attack the Dwarf; undoubtedly, however, Zaharûn was armed. It would be safer to follow through with the conversation - so long as the Dwarf was still here, there was a chance.

"What?" asked the Dwarf, his curiosity getting the better of him, as Legolas had hoped it would.

Legolas shifted his gaze. "Well, I was going to say...maybe you could take me to see it?"

* * *

"Zaharûn is with the Elf now," Glóin told Azaghâl. The younger Dwarf listened intently. "Everything is playing out perfectly. But we can't keep going much longer. Gimli is getting suspicious and it is only a matter of time until he figures it out."

Azaghâl agreed. "I can go and see the Elf now, start asking him those questions..."

"No," Glóin said firmly. "He has already had quite enough visitors for the moment and he has a lot of information to think over. This evening, perhaps."

Azaghâl grunted. "You sure we can trust Zaharûn? Alone? You know what he's like."

"We can trust him for this," Glóin replied firmly. "And those tunnels are a maze - the Elf could never find his way out, Zaharûn knows better than to help him. In fact, Zaharûn has his own task."

They remained silent for a few seconds. Azaghâl frowned.

"How will we stop the Elf from telling Gimli everything when this is over?"

Glóin grinned. "I have my own way of ensuring that. You don't need to worry."

"You most certainly do not. You have just told me yourselves."

Glóin and Azaghâl turned in horror as Gimli emerged from behind the nearby corner. His hands were clenched into fists and his voice shook; there was a terrifying mix of betrayal and anger in his normally kind brown eyes. With every step Gimli took towards them, their hearts sank a little lower in their chests.

* * *

For one thrilling moment Legolas had thought the Dwarf would actually agree. That moment passed, and the Dwarf blinked.

"No. You know I can't do that. No."

Legolas' heart sank in disappointment. He was aware that he had used a similar tactic to the one Gollum had used to his guards, but there was no helping that. It hadn't worked, anyway.

"I should be going," Zaharûn continued, clambering to his feet. He took the few steps towards the door.

Legolas' desperation was mounting. He knew it was only a matter of seconds until his chance was gone, and who knew when it would be back? As the Dwarf, who seemed to be unnerved the short conversation they had had, fiddled to get the key in the lock.

Legolas exhaled deeply. He had nothing else to loose and in one smooth motion he was up on his feet and moving towards the Dwarf.

"Wait," he said. In his left hand, he held the tray out to the Dwarf, who had no choice but to use both hands to take it. Within the second, Legolas had moved.

Pushing the Dwarf aside, he pulled the heavy door open and leaped into the hallway. For a split second, he relished the feeling of being free, before reminding himself that actually, he was far from it. Legolas pulled the door closed again just as the Dwarf's frantic hands reached out to stop him. They narrowly missed out on being trapped between the door and frame.

Exhilarated, Legolas shoved the key into the lock and turned it. Inside, Zahurûn was hollering. Legolas smiled despite himself. There was no-one to hear him - Legolas knew this from past experience.

Yet now, Legolas had another problem. There was just one corridor leading off of this one, but past that, he remembered, it was a labyrinth of long, narrow hallways. He had no hope of finding his way out.

Leaving the key in the lock, he hurried away anyway - what choice did he have?

* * *

Gimli stood a few feet away from his father and friend and narrowed his eyes.

"I don't want to know how or why you did it - yet - but I want you to take me to him. Now."

"Gimli, my son, listen to-"

"NOW!"

Glóin sighed. It was over. He wouldn't pretend he wasn't a little disappointed, but perhaps, he considered, this would work out for the best. He turned to Azaghâl, who looked shell-shocked and guilty. Glóin couldn't blame him - that was exactly how he felt.

"Lead the way, Azaghâl," he instructed. After the younger Dwarf had done so, he attempted to fall in to step with his son, but Gimli intentionally timed his own strides to avoid his father.

The three of them made their way down to the lower halls in complete, tense silence.

* * *

Thank-you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it - if you have the time I would truly appreciate any concrit or feedback you could give me :)

ebbingnight - Thanks for your review! You're right - 'happy' is probably the opposite to the way he feels right now! Very true - although I'm sure Thranduil will have his fair share of faults :)


	5. Part Five: A Reunion of Friends

No Place Like Home

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed; your comments are much appreciated!

Disclaimer: I own nothing :(

_Every parting gives a fortaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection - Arthur Schopenhauer. _

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_Part Five - The Reunion of Friends _

Legolas froze.

The sound was faint, but growing steadily closer.

His eyes darted around, looking for a promising place to hide. He found none, as this hallway had no doors coming off of it. Reluctantly, he quietly returned the way he came and darted over to the first door. _Locked._

Wasting no time, he quickly moved on to the next. _Locked again. _

When he reached the fourth door, he was desperate. By some miracle, however, the fifth door budged at his touch, although it was obviously very stiff. Trying to be as silent and calm as possible, he leaned all his weight against the door until it moved a few more inches. Now able to get a firm hold, he gave it a hefty shove and, praying that the low scraping sound created by the movement hadn't been heard by his pursuers, slipped in to the room.

His challenge now, of course, was to close the door. Slowly, and very, very carefully, he pushed the ancient door closed in short, quiet bursts. Today was obviously his lucky day because he managed to close the door before the Dwarves rounded the corner.

He listened carefully as he heard several pairs of feet tread down the hall. There were, he realised, three or four Dwarves headed down to the chamber. His first thought was that there seemed to be more people involved in this than he had initially thought; this was quickly followed by a second, far more horrifying thought. In a few minutes, these Dwarfs would reach the chamber. Surely they all had their own key, so they would open it and find Zaharûn, who would, of course, tell them everything. Not ten minutes had passed since he had left! Legolas knew he had not a chance of outlasting them down here in this labyrinth. They would find him in half a minute.

And yet – he would still try.

Once he was sure whoever had passed by was out of hearing, he crept from the room and continued on the path he had been taking. He appeared to be on a main corridor, of sorts, and although smaller tunnels branched off of it, he decided not to take any. In his precarious position, it was better to go in one direction, even if it did raise his chances of being discovered.

Admittedly, Legolas didn't quite have a 'plan'. His aim was merely to leave the mountain as quickly as possible, but how he was going to achieve that he had no idea. For all he knew, he was going in entirely the wrong direction, deeper into the mountain. He preferred not to consider that.

It was several uneventful minutes more before he spotted the first sign of civilisation he had seen since escaping. He hesitated briefly – and was later exceedingly glad he had done so. He shrank into the shadows to get a closer look at the shadowy figure standing a way off at the other end of the corridor. Legolas was, for the first time, thankful that the passage was not well lit.

He slowly stepped back, trying to reach a branch in the tunnel to disappear down; no such luck. Odin was making his way steadily towards him and in a moment, Legolas knew, he would be seen.

Just as Legolas thought all was lost, his hands found empty air and with relief, he stepped back, waiting for Odin to hurry past.

Instead, Odin turned quite suddenly into the passage down which Legolas stood. They made eye contact at once. Odin stood there, staring at him in confusion, for some moments. Legolas just found himself thinking, well, at least we are evenly matched – there was only himself and the Dwarf. Who, of course, would be armed, yet Legolas had been taught to fight with his fists, and this, quite possibly, could become one of the first chances he had had to put this into practice.

"I cannot believe he escaped! I never thought I would say this, but, Zaharûn, how could this have happened? Why couldn't you keep a closer eye on him!"

Legolas froze at the sound of that familiar voice; Gimli!

"I assure you, my son, this was hardly our intention," answered the gruff voice of Glóin.

Legolas frowned. Surely his friend has not played a part in this! Of course, they had not been on the best terms when they had arrived, but he could not imagine Gimli going to these lengths to punish him.

"Gimli, my friend, when we find the Elf, we will place him straight back in the chamber he escaped from, if you would prefer that."

The voices were approaching from behind Legolas; obviously, this passageway was a short cut. Legolas's hopes were sinking fast, and he was up to his eyes in confusion. Somewhere, somehow, he seemed to have missed a vital part of what was going on.

"Legolas!"

"Grab him, Odin!"

The two cries came simultaneously; a split second later, Odin had grabbed Legolas' arms and now held on with a viper like grip. Legolas heard the thudding of running feet from behind him and a burst of adrenaline shot through him. Pulling himself from Odin's grip, he flew back along the main passageway. He hadn't wanted to wait around for Azaghâl to carry out his threat – although he was unsure of what exactly Gimli's presence might mean, he'd had only a split second to make a decision and this was what he had decided.

"Legolas! NO! Where are you going?" Gimli shouted after his friend. Unfortunately, Legolas was a lot faster than any of the Dwarves, who hadn't a hope of catching up with him. They watched helplessly as the Elf turned down a branched passageway, and groaned when he was out of sight.

"What is the idiot doing?" muttered Glóin. "He is going to get himself hopelessly lost."

"Can you blame him?" demanded an exasperated Gimli.

The others were silent as Gimli fumed.

"I suppose you were in on this, too?" he growled in Odin's direction. Without waiting for an answer, he barraged on. "Right, well, I'm going to have to go after him - you people can't come, he won't go near you. Instead why don't you make yourselves useful and go think up your excuses for what you've done."

Glóin and Azaghâl exchanged worried looks.

"My son, when you hear what we have to say-"

"It will change nothing." Gimli interrupted firmly. "I am going to get _my friend_. When I have, we will be coming to you for some answers - and then leaving. Undoubtedly he will not want to spend a _second_ night in this place. I could hardly blame him."

Glóin drew himself up, trying to reinstate some of his fatherly dominance. "My son, you too have a few things to answer for. You can explain to us what exactly went on in that forest, and why the two of you were so annoyed with each other when you arrived-"

"I assure you that I will be answering nothing until you do." Gimli replied coldly. Without another word, he strode off as fast as he could in the direction Legolas had been going in.

* * *

Legolas didn't pause as he made his way, as confidently as he could, through the halls. He was well aware of the wispers that followed him but he was, at the moment, doing quite a good job of ignoring them. He had found himself in a wide corridor through which seven or eight Dwarves had been hustling. He had at once been relieve to find himself in a civilised area once again, but wasn't eager to speak to anybody - just in case.

Things had been getting steadily busier as he'd progressed, which made him suspect he was drawing closer to the main hall. Sure enough, when he reached the end of one particular passageway, a step through the double doors at the end found him standing in the vast entrance hall. It was the busiest place he had seen in the mountain and yet he still wasn't quite comfortable being the only Elf amongst all these Dwarves.

Warily, he crossed the hall. He had almost reached the doors, being almost completely ignored by the busy, surrounding Dwarves when a soft voice reached him.

"Legolas...where are you going?"

Legolas gave a guilty start as he recognised Gimli, leaning against the wall and observing him sadly. He hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Gimli held up his hands and bowed his head. "I'm sorry, my friend...I don't know what to say to you. This is my fault, although not directly. I understand you want to leave, and I will allow you to do so in just a minute if you wish, but first...I wish you would listen to what I have to say." Now he raised his eyes and looked his friend square in the face.

Legolas nodded. "You didn't know, then, Gimli? You had nothing to do with it?"

A flame shot up in the Dwarf's defensive eyes for a moment, before it faltered and compassion replaced it. "Of course not," he said simply.

Legolas nodded again. He hadn't truly thought his friend had, of course...he merely had to make sure. "Then I shall certainly talk with you."

Gimli gave a half-hearted smile, and gestured for the Elf to follow him. The pair were quite silent as the Dwarf led the way down quieter passages until they reached an empty corridor. Down here Gimli went, finally entering a door which stood about halfway along. The room was medium sized and sqaure with sharp, straight corners. The walls were undecorated and fashioned with only the bare minimum of furniture.

"Where are we?" asked Legolas curiously, as he took his seat near the unlit fire.

Gimli smiled wanly. "Well...I suppose you could think of it as a common room. They are dotted around, free for anyone to make use of, but this is one of the less popular ones, I must say. I thought it was a suitable setting for the conversation we are about to have."

Legolas had to agree. "How did you know where I would be? I mean, I had no idea where I was going, so how did you know where to wait?"

At this, Gimli smiled. "Ah...Legolas, I was not fool enough to go chasing you around that underground maze. You are not completely devoid of intelligence, however, so I was quite certain you would find your way to the entrance hall eventually. I was right. Here we are."

The two of them sat in contemplative silence for a few moments. Finally, Gimli broke it.

"I'm going to be quite honest with you...I doubt I know much more about this than you do. I can't explain why it was done. But I'm sorry all the same. Not just for this, but for...yesterday. For leaving you with Azaghâl and Zaharûn, and for...arguing."

Legolas gave a weak smile. "You weren't to know. And as for yesterday, well, I am as much to blame as you. I shouldn't have laughed at you - it wasn't your fault. You are hardly a skilled horserider, my friend."

Gimli raised his eyebrows. "I shall ignore that comment," he muttered. "If that child hadn't run out infront of Arod, it would never have happened, anyway."

Legolas smiled. "It's my fault as well. I should have controlled her better, stopped her from reacting in such a ... drastic way." His mouth twitiched at the memory of Gimli, unprepared and not yet holding on properly, falling from the horse and landing awkwardly on the ground after the horse had risen on its back legs - in order to avoid the small human child who had run, unconcerned, in front of them. "I apoligize, Gimli. Do you forgive me?"

"Aye, I do," Gimli replied with a smile. "Even so, that is no excuse for saying what I did about your brother."

Legolas averted his eyes. At the time, it had seemed like such a serious betrayal, an unforgivable action, but now... he was embarressed to admit it, but in all truthfulness he could not even remember what exactly had been said. In any case it had been said in the heat of the moment and he had half deserved it anyway, after laughing at Gimli so.

"Forgive me, Gimli, but...remind me what it was, exactly, you said?"

Gimli blushed, one of the rare occasions that Legolas had actually seen this happen. "Well, er, I called him...it doesn't matter, I mean it is just dragging up past quarrels..." he managed to stammer out. Legolas grinned.

"Never mind...all is forgiven, in any case. Now it seems we must turn our attention to more recent troubles."

Gimli nodded his agreement. "But first...let me tell you what I have been doing this past day, and you can share your story with me."

The two of them quickly related to eachother their recent Legolas had concluded his own tale, Gimli stood up. His smile did not reach his eyes. He was about to have the most awkward, uncomfortable conversation with his father and friends he'd ever held in his life.

"I am sure we will find them in my parents' apartment," Gimli explained. "So that is where we are going."

Legolas nodded. Although wary about facing his captors, he was desperate to understand. The Elf and Dwarf walked side by side, their mouths set, their faces grim, as they made their way to the apartment where Gimli had, only yesterday, been so happy and comfortable.

* * *

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY! I hope you all have a wonderful day tomorrow whether you celebrate it or not before we have to return to school or work! :D

Graceling - Thank you :) I agree, but at least he is free now! Thanks for the review!

ebbingnight - Thank you - well, let's face it, would you want to walk next to someone after you had just found that out? :) Thanks for the review!

_A/N: Thank you for reading, and if you have the time, I would be very grateful for any feedback or con crit you could give me!_


	6. Part Six: Answers

No Place Like Home

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine :)

Part Six: Answers

Surreptitiously, Legolas glanced around the room. He was finding it hard to believe that it was here Gimli had grown up. The apartment was the complete opposite to what he had expected – it was homey, and comfortable. Soft chairs, an abundance of family portraits, a little clutter. Looking at Glóin now, Legolas conceded that this was undoubtedly Gimli's mother's influence. He smiled despite himself. He had yet to meet this lady – he certainly intended to get his first look at a female Dwarf before he left.

Gimli's voice broke the uncomfortable silence that had settled over the room. "You have had time to rehearse your excuses," the Dwarf intoned softly. Legolas raised his eyebrows when he heard this. He was surprised to realise that he had seen this quiet fury in the eyes of his father many times before. The comparison made him smile again. "Now we shall hear them."

Silence continued to ring in the air for several moments after Gimli had stopped speaking. The other four Dwarves seemed utterly miserable, at least to Legolas. Finally, Glóin stepped forward.

"We have no excuses, my son. You deserve to hear the truth. That is what we will give you."

Gimli nodded. "We are glad to hear it," he replied, sparing a quick glance at Legolas.

Seeing that none of his companions intended to open their mouths, Glóin took a deep breath and opened his own for a second time.

"I admit that it was all my idea," he confessed. "We were all very excited when we got word that you would be coming home, as you can imagine. We were curious when we heard that you would be bringing the Elf with you. Curious still when, several weeks ago, a rider from the Elf's realm visited here inquiring about your whereabouts." Here he paused, and made eye contact with his son. "I did not know what to think. I did not know where you were and neither, apparently, did the people you were supposedly staying with. Your mother and I were worried for you."

More confident now that another had begun the tale, Azaghàl jumped in to continue. "Then you finally arrive, barely on speaking terms with the Elf you had written so highly about for years. You would not tell us anything…you still will not." He broke free of Gimli's angry gaze, looking instead to Glóin for guidance. "I admit, by that point we had already decided that we would play a trick on the Elf. But it would only have been for fun – light-hearted fun. Between friends."

Here, Zahurûn took up the recollection. "We were sure you would ask one of us to take the Elf to his guest room briefly whilst you greeted you parents privately. Of course, you did just that." He paused, obviously uncomfortable. "I had gone along up to that point because I had thought it would just be a prank. Our intention had been to simply leave him there alone for a few hours, and when you began seriously questioning his whereabouts, we would tell you. He would be unlocked within time for the celebratory feast and the entire incident would be forgotten." He looked at his friend very intensely for several moments. "If I had known, then, that it would escalate into this, I would never have become involved," he admitted. "As it was, I found it very hard to tear myself away from the whole thing. I wish very much that I had looking back – the Elf may have told you that he very nearly talked me into letting him out." He smiled, slightly bitterly. "And of course, I was with me that he did eventually escape."

Gimli nodded once. "It did not escape my attention. However, the fact remains that you did continue to go along with it." He raised his eyebrows. "Well?"

Zahurûn sighed. "I did indeed," he agreed. "We took the Elf down to the room we had decided to keep him in and locked it. Returning to the more populated area of the mountain, your father met us. He told us that there was an amendment to the plan." Now, he faltered, obviously unwilling to relate this part to his friend. Glóin took up the story.

"I did not leave to follow your mother, Gimli. I went instead to meet the other two on their way up. I had spoken to you, and your countenance was…different. I cannot explain exactly how but I could put two and two together. I knew that if we simply extended our prank a little, we could extract all the information we needed from the Elf." Glòin stepped forward, until he was within touching distance of his son. When he spoke again, his voice was gentler. "I assure you, it was never our intention to harm him. We fed him. We had not planned for him to spend the whole night in the room but I had not been able to give him the time to talk that I wanted, as I was with you at the feast, that is what happened. I promise you that he would not have spent another night there even if you had not found out what we were doing."

The younger Dwarf merely looked at his father blankly. "One night in that room was one night too many," he said. "If that is meant to be some kind of excuse, then it is a poor one. Surely you do not think that I would be gratified to hear that?"

Glòin closed his eyes and loosened a breath. "No, my son, I do not think that. I told you that you would hear only the truth from us." He looked intently at Legolas. "I wanted to know why the two of you were not talking and what had occurred in the Elf's homeland that had caused – did you say it was his brother? – to journey here." He addressed Legolas. "I tricked you into thinking that I already knew all of this. I tried to pretend that I was on your side whilst the others were against you. I thought I could get you to tell me what happened that way – without you yourself knowing what you were doing." The old Dwarf frowned. "You still did not seem to trust me. I had expected this. I planned for Zahurûn, who I was sure you would prefer, to become friends with you in the hope that you would confide in him."

Glòin stopped, and returned his gaze to his son. "That is all, my son. I have nothing else to say. I am sure that the other's do not either."

Gimli regarded the others carefully for a few moments. He raised his eyebrows at Legolas. Eventually, he turned back to his father.

"But…I still do not understand _why_. I mean, why was it so important? Surely you knew that I would tell you in the end, if you were so interested."

The older Dwarf looked back apologetically at the other two. "I was not sure of that," he answered. "You had changed. That I had expected, of course – one does not simply journey to Mordor and back only to return home unaffected by their experiences. But my first clue that something was truly different was the fact that you had brought home an Elf."

Neither Legolas nor Gimli so much as twitched at Glòin's weak attempt at humour.

"To go to such lengths –"

Glòin interrupted with a shrug. "In any case," he concluded. "He and his father may be forgiven for the unfortunate incident in his home many decades ago."

Legolas's eyebrows climbed very far up his forehead. "In the eyes of your people, that incident occurred a very long time ago," he said coolly.

"My memory is long," Glòin informed him. "You will be pleased to hear that you have fully repaid that debt."

Legolas blinked, unsure whether or not the Dwarf was serious or not. He finally said, "My memory is also long. I have managed to forgive _you_ for it."

Gimli was also unsure of his father's seriousness. The older Dwarf's tone betrayed nothing. He decided to ignore the comment.

"It is clear to me that you have spoken the truth," he concurred finally. "I accept that. It seems I have no choice but to." He sighed. "Have the four of you nothing to say for yourselves?"

Eagerly, Zahurûn stepped forward. "Gimli," he turned to Legolas. "Master Elf. I offer you my apology. It is a pity that it is often only on reflection that the best course of action may be seen." He paused, seeming uncertain, before continuing. "I hope that in time you will both forgive my mistake and that we can move on from this to become friends." This last part was directed purely at Legolas, who smiled.

"I would like that very much," he agreed.

Following Zahurûn's example, the other three stepped forward to echo their own apologies, Azaghàl only slightly more reluctantly that the others.

* * *

"You are an excellent disciplinarian, Gimli. Truly. Are you sure you do not want children? You would raise them very well, so long as your wife is forgiving in nature." Legolas laughed lightly at the aggravated expression on his friend's face. "No, really, Gimli, it was very amusing to watch you treat you own father as though he were a child."

"If he is going to behave like a child," Gimli justified. This only made the Elf laugh harder. "For someone who recently spent a night locked in a Dwarven dungeon, you are in good spirits," he noted. "Why?"

Legolas smiled. He had agreed to remain in Erebor for at least a few more days – he had yet to meet Gimli's whole family and he was very interested about learning more about the murals which covered almost every wall in the mountain. He also planned to spend time, as promised, getting to know Zahurûn better. Even now he was surprised to find that he looked forward to each of these activities.

The two friends were sat outside on one of the few balconies of the entire mountain. Gimli had arranged for Legolas to spend his trip in this room earlier in the afternoon and he too had decided to sleep in it to keep his friend company. They had recently returned from visiting Arod, who had been only too happy to see the both of them, before which they had enjoyed dinner in the Great Hall.

"I am no longer in the Dwarven dungeon," Legolas replied, but he offered nothing more. The pair sat in a comfortably silence for many minutes.

"Aragorn will be pleased to know that we had the uneventful trip he predicted," Gimli said finally. Legolas shot him an amused glance.

"I agree. There is, of course, no reason why he should know _all_ the details of our trip…"

Gimli raised a single eyebrow. "Which particular details do you have in mind?" He asked dryly.

"All of them, I suppose." Legolas admitted. He smiled at the Dwarf. "Can you imagine what he would have to say about it?"

Gimli considered this. Finally, he made eye contact with the Elf. "Very well," he agreed with false seriousness. We will discuss what exactly we do not plan on telling Aragorn on our return journey."

* * *

A/N – Thanks very much for reading. I'd really appreciate any feedback and concrit you can offer :) :)

ebbingnight - I'm glad you liked it :) and hopefully you have your answers now! Thank you so much for the review :)

I really cannot believe that a story of six chapters has taken me more than a year and a half to complete. If I'd known that at the beginning then I would never have started it! I am _so_ glad it's finished. I'm sure you are too if you bothered to read this far!


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